


Moonlight Sacrifice

by Sashaya



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda Magical Lydia Martin, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 00:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3830935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashaya/pseuds/Sashaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Moon was his guide, the voice in his mind, slowly pushing him towards insanity. Peter didn't mind, never did, not when It pushed him towards his defiant boy, his Stiles. And then the Moon was cruel...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonlight Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-ed by my sweet Nehelena.
> 
> _**Disclaimer:**_ _I don't own the characters._

There was never a time in Peter’s life, when he thought he could hate the moon.

Since birth it was singing in his blood, calling for him and drawing him closer to insanity. No-one from his family understood, thinking him damaged goods. 

The truth was, he was the Only Wolf among them. The only One so close to the goods that created them. They couldn’t understand because the gods – The Moon – wasn’t calling for them.

So Peter ignored them and sharpened his claws, when it became clear Talia was the next Alpha. He howled to the moon, bitter that he was overlooked when he was the only one really aware. 

He kept quiet, waiting and planning. Something. He was never sure but it kept him occupied so his family stopped watching his every move. 

Peter always knew they were fools.

Then the fire happened and they all burnt, leaving Peter as an empty husk. Detached, with Moon whispering promises in his burnt ears. 

Then was Laura. The one, who abandoned him, left him to die. 

His veins were calling for her life and Peter bathed in her blood with content that made him aware how insane he was. 

He really didn’t mind.

Next came Derek, drenched in pain, sorrow, regret and Peter choked on air around him. 

He was tempted, his claws sharp and ready to strike. It would be so easy.

And then Stiles appeared. 

The human boy was clumsy, loud, made of mix of scents Peter couldn’t all identify. Stiles was someone else, he looked at peter and Peter knew the boy saw the Moon’s shadow. The boy was different, in hiding. Peter circled him, stalked like a prey that tried to run. 

But Stiles just pretended. He was afraid but he wasn’t. He was loyal but cruel. 

Peter adored the two-faced human, who had everyone fooled. 

The Moon claimed the boy and Stiles curious eyes told Peter, the boy knew. And had yet decided what to do. 

So Peter’s life was filled with moonlight, its words and Stiles. All hectic, insane but there. Steady.

And then The Moon decided to be cruel and led Peter to the broken husk of his boy, illuminated like a present under a Christmas tree. Like a forgotten actor on a scene.

Stiles was on his side, curled into himself – it was a default position for someone trying to survive. And failing. 

Peter could smell blood, fresh as if it was just spilled. He could smell fear and pain and the sweet scent of determination, defiance. 

Even blind, Peter would know it was his boy dead on the floor. 

Peter felt numb – the cold, vicious rage took over him as he held Stiles in his arms. 

The boy’s face was red and purple, his nose broken. There was blood over his left eye and Peter knew the sight in it was gone long before Stiles took his last breath.

Stiles never stirred, cold in Peter’s arms. Like a doll that Peter once wanted to break himself. 

There was no heartbeat synced with his own and in this moment Peter could feel again.

It hurt.

It was like fire again and Peter shook, trembled in pain, mixing his own with the remnants of Stiles’ scent. 

He howled. Louder than ever in his life and he cursed The Moon and begged it for help. But it stayed cold and distant like Stiles and Peter understood. 

The Moon always led him to the whiskey-eyed boy because the cruel gods chose Stiles as their vessel. 

So Peter ran. Ran fast and long until he fell before the banshee.

“Save” Peter barely spoke, slowly being overtaken by the beast. “Save him”

Lydia did. She sacrificed Stiles to the moonlight, when Peter trashed and scream, held back. 

He didn’t know the banshee was Its priestess. 

The Moon took his boy and in an hour the man stood before him.

His left eye was closed, gone forever but his right was shining with moonlight and something more. Something dangerous, defiant.

He smiled in a way that made Peter cry and he fell to his knees, sobbing. 

“It’s okay, Peter” Stiles knelt by him because it was Stiles, his Stiles brought back to him. 

“It was always the plan” Stiles said in a sad, hurt voice and Peter knew his boy too tricked by the Moon.

“Don’t leave me” Peter said and grabbed Stiles hand, pulling him close. 

“Never” Stiles said and hugged Peter tightly. His heartbeat was in sync with Peter’s again. 

“You know even gods can’t make me do a thing”

Peter saw Lydia smile. 

The Moon kept talking.

It was always the plan for them to be together, 

Stiles brought Peter closer to the Moon, connected them tightly. 

Peter kissed Stiles, red eyes promising new type of insanity.

Stiles welcomed it with shining eyes and cruel smile.


End file.
